Dale Cleary
06-15-2003, 12:27 PM
Chameleonic, distinctive and musically wise, Bill Bruford stands as a man for all seasons. In between stints with art rock pioneers Yes, King Crimson and other bands, the drummer has delved into diverse jazz forms over the past three decades: searing fusion with his eponomous electric quartet; ethereal accoustic jazz with Ralph Towner and Eddie Gomez on 1997's If summer had its ghosts; and original creations with his present priority, the quartet Earthworks.
Jazz forms have always been as close to Bruford's heart as rock, asked about his influences, he points out "probably everything that comes out of my record player, and a whole lot more. As a drummer nothing has changed; I'm still polishing away at a fairly rough diamond, trying to remove the muck so it will shine a bit more brightly.
"As a composer, I am keen to bring my own roots to jazz." he continues, "Outside of my art rock background, which would lead you to expect lots of dramatic light and shade, and twists and turns in the music, my roots are of course, no roots. Earthworks reserves the right to find its jazz where ever it can."
One key to the bands flexibility is pianist Steve Hamilton who works hand in hand with the leader from song conception to performance; but at the core lay Bruford's intensely personal drumming; around which he crafts their repertoire.
"You can control the enviroment in which you are heard and carve out your own patch, but you need to guard against a correspondingly diminished ability to interpret other peoples music quickly and effectively."
Electronis drums.
"The instrument had just got to the point where it had become interesting. Specifically the arrival of sampling, MIDI and multi assignment of samples to zone sensitive pads meant the ambitious drummer was technically able to provide the harmonic or chordal background to the music in real time. The instrument had "grown up" and someone had to treat it like an adult. I volunteered!"
As sharp as the electronic component was, it later became an albatross for Bruford. "I remember Jack DeJohnette and Bernard Purdie in front of the bandstand at the Montreal jazz festival in 1990, both with a look of astonishment mixed with pity, I thought the results were really interesting, but came at a heavy price of man hours spent trying to get one instrument to talk to another, and then the work on the gig."
The latest incarnation of Earthworks.
"I moved fully accoustic with the second addition of Earthworks in 1998 and life became logistically simple again."
Composition.
While rhythm is the logical basis of his compositions, Bruford does not write exclusively from the drum line upwards. On his ballads, for example, the route is top down starting with the melody. An example is "Come to dust", a lovely piano feature for Hamilton, who assists Bruford in developing the tunes through a lengthy, but democratic process. "Steve will upgrade the harmonic movement if necessary, add, change or remove some notes. A rehearsal is called at which everyone complains that it's unplayable. Like trying on a new suit, we tailor it to fit particular instrumentalists and their suggestions. Another chart is prepared, another rehearsal and same again if necessary, before going out on the road to learn how the tune wants to be played. It will have its own character by now, and it could be pretty grumpy to start with. Only after a dozen or so dates does it spark up, and then, in an ideal world, is the perfect time to record it."
King Crimson.
"Somewhere around 1998 I crossed an invisible divide, which means I am unlikely to sit in front of large amplifiers for long hours in a rehearsal room again. To travel to the other side, it's eventually going to become essential that you leave the shore on which you are standing. I've left the shore. I've irritated enough progressive rock musicians by playing jazz on the stand, so perhaps I should make, or have made, the albums I would have 30 years ago if I had known how."
Jazz forms have always been as close to Bruford's heart as rock, asked about his influences, he points out "probably everything that comes out of my record player, and a whole lot more. As a drummer nothing has changed; I'm still polishing away at a fairly rough diamond, trying to remove the muck so it will shine a bit more brightly.
"As a composer, I am keen to bring my own roots to jazz." he continues, "Outside of my art rock background, which would lead you to expect lots of dramatic light and shade, and twists and turns in the music, my roots are of course, no roots. Earthworks reserves the right to find its jazz where ever it can."
One key to the bands flexibility is pianist Steve Hamilton who works hand in hand with the leader from song conception to performance; but at the core lay Bruford's intensely personal drumming; around which he crafts their repertoire.
"You can control the enviroment in which you are heard and carve out your own patch, but you need to guard against a correspondingly diminished ability to interpret other peoples music quickly and effectively."
Electronis drums.
"The instrument had just got to the point where it had become interesting. Specifically the arrival of sampling, MIDI and multi assignment of samples to zone sensitive pads meant the ambitious drummer was technically able to provide the harmonic or chordal background to the music in real time. The instrument had "grown up" and someone had to treat it like an adult. I volunteered!"
As sharp as the electronic component was, it later became an albatross for Bruford. "I remember Jack DeJohnette and Bernard Purdie in front of the bandstand at the Montreal jazz festival in 1990, both with a look of astonishment mixed with pity, I thought the results were really interesting, but came at a heavy price of man hours spent trying to get one instrument to talk to another, and then the work on the gig."
The latest incarnation of Earthworks.
"I moved fully accoustic with the second addition of Earthworks in 1998 and life became logistically simple again."
Composition.
While rhythm is the logical basis of his compositions, Bruford does not write exclusively from the drum line upwards. On his ballads, for example, the route is top down starting with the melody. An example is "Come to dust", a lovely piano feature for Hamilton, who assists Bruford in developing the tunes through a lengthy, but democratic process. "Steve will upgrade the harmonic movement if necessary, add, change or remove some notes. A rehearsal is called at which everyone complains that it's unplayable. Like trying on a new suit, we tailor it to fit particular instrumentalists and their suggestions. Another chart is prepared, another rehearsal and same again if necessary, before going out on the road to learn how the tune wants to be played. It will have its own character by now, and it could be pretty grumpy to start with. Only after a dozen or so dates does it spark up, and then, in an ideal world, is the perfect time to record it."
King Crimson.
"Somewhere around 1998 I crossed an invisible divide, which means I am unlikely to sit in front of large amplifiers for long hours in a rehearsal room again. To travel to the other side, it's eventually going to become essential that you leave the shore on which you are standing. I've left the shore. I've irritated enough progressive rock musicians by playing jazz on the stand, so perhaps I should make, or have made, the albums I would have 30 years ago if I had known how."